The Motor Viper
by Timothy Zero
Summary: Meet Noel Brenza, ex getaway driver and now new Motor Viper. Noel is about to have his wits tested. But before we get to that. Let's see how he got to where he is now.


The Motor Viper readjusts his gloves. No matter what he tries, he can't get them on tight enough. He understands that it's a trick of the mind but that doesn't stop him from trying to make them fit. He sits there in his Cobra Stun, with three infantry vipers, on top of a 60-foot mesa, awaiting attack commands from Major Bludd. A command that he knows that he will do, but still he's nervous. No one can see his worried brow or mouth pursed in anxiety under his mirrored visor.

He checks the controls of the STUN, something that he's already done fifteen times now. To keep his mind busy, he readjusts everything again, even checking his sidearms, strapped to either thigh so as not to think about the upcoming battle. It was something that he did when he was a child. His mother would ignore the tornado sirens and lay on the couch talking to her boyfriend on the phone, while he pulled the mattress off his bed, down the hallway and cover himself in the bathtub.

Prepping for the inevitable, for some reason, was always calming for him, but it wasn't doing the trick this time. The armor plating that fit snuggly across his chest and abdomen fools him into believing he can't breathe, but he knows that when the fighting starts and his squad gets the orders, at least all that will fade away.

He decided to focus in on the two viper soldiers in the battle shells in front of him.

The two of them were talking about something that didn't seem to matter.

"Listen…Are you listening to me? I am telling you nostalgia is a bad thing to follow down an alley at night." The viper on the left said. From where the Motor Viper was setting, he couldn't see his mirrored mask. But he could see a deep gouge in the top part of his helmet.

"And why is that? Nostalgia is a harmless marketing ploy, using the past to make money off of you. It's not a big deal." The viper on the right said. He was more expressive when he talked. He was waving his arms about and pointing at nothing in particular.

"And you are wrong. Nostalgia is much more than that. Nostalgia comes from the Greek word, "nostos" meaning homecoming, and "algos" meaning "pain, ache". Your memories of something bad or mediocre, are warped over time and your mind turns them into something different, something, emotional." Dented Helmet said. His shoulders slumping slightly and his head dropping noticeably. He looked back over to his right and then said, "I blame the amygdala for all that."

"Amygdala? hmmm, was she your old lady? With an exotic name like that, I bet…"

"Amygdala!" dented helmet said sternly, "Is the emotional control center of the brain! Why? Why do I even talk to you?"

The gesturer looked away from dented helmet in self-loathing, but then quickly shook it off, turned around and pointed back at the Motor Viper and said, "Hey guy, what's your opinion on all this? Is nostalgia a bad thing to dwell on?"

"Hey, hey, hey" dented helmet said in a quick and hushed voice. It didn't matter though. The Motor Viper could still hear him. "Don't get this one involved."

"Why not?" gesturer asked.

"Because, first off. This is a private conversation between you and me. And secondly, because, it may seem kind of insignificant right now, but we are protected by Boron Carbide/epoxy armor in these battle pods. So that means we are pretty safe."

"How do you know that?" The viper manning the rear gun enquired.

"Shut up baby fang! "Dented Helmet shouted. "I started off as a Biblio-Viper.

"But, you took a drastic pay cut, dropping back down to infantry viper, why would you do that? "Baby fang viper asked like he didn't hear dented helmets command.

"It's simply none of your business, and don't ever interrupt me again! "Dented Helmet shouts over his shoulder. He shakes his head dramatically and then continues talking to the gesturer.

" This guy is wearing some plated Kevlar and he's in a rearward position. Yes, that does give a great view on everything happening but no cover. None what so ever…and he took this job? Did he volunteer? He was recruited to pilot this 4-ton tricycle?" Dented helmet looked forward and said, "That's just crazy. And you know what? We're crazy for being a part of this! Bludd has three Hiss tanks, three Stuns and 60 BAT troops and no aerial support…does he think this ambush is going to work? Would you follow orders from a guy that terrorizes and bullies the cobra librarians into cataloging all his books of poetry? Have you even read any of it? It'd give a cauliflower an aneurysm!"

The motor viper wasn't listening anymore. He's mind was caught on the word "recruited" and how just 4 months ago. He was a different person. A person named Noel Brenza.

Noel was a young wheelman that showed a lot of promise under stress and high-speed chases and had a spatial awareness that any spy would be envious of. He was always smart. But one time he took a job for a friend that knew him. After the job, everyone went their separate ways. But the friend dropped a dime on Noel and the other people involved for a shorter stint in prison. Noel was promptly caught and was awaiting trial. He was held in the confession room for 48 hours by police. He was not allowed to sleep or eat, and yet he still never uttered a word.

Two officers eventually arrived and took Noel to what he thought was going to be the courthouse to be arraigned, but they took him out to the northern "badlands", as the citizens of Philadelphia like to call it, in the gas district. The pulled up to a rusted, beat up, warehouse and took him in. This caused alarm bells to ring in Noel's head, but he remained silent.

Inside the warehouse was nothing but lots of dust and empty space, and an old metal office desk with two very uncomfortable looking folding chairs and a man in a black suit, red tie, grayish-black hair, and pale skin, standing next to it. Noel thought the man resembled the German actor Christoph Waltz. There was something about the man's eyes and a smile that gave Noel a cold feeling in his stomach. He motioned for the cops to bring him in. The man saluted the two policemen, he raised his right arm upward in the air, with his hand open and palm facing them and his left arm across his chest with the hand making a fist. The policemen saluted back to him.

"Hail Cobra." The man said.

"Hail Cobra!" The two policemen shouted back.

The man sat down and offered with an outstretched hand, for Noel to have a seat in the chair in front of him. He sat down, his hands still cuffed behind him, but he didn't speak.

The man noticed this and gestured at one of the officers, who went over and un-cuffed Noel.

The man looked him in the eye and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Brenza. I am known as The Recruiter." He said in a throaty metallic sounding voice.

Noel said nothing back. Merely watched him. This caused The Recruiter to snort out a small laugh. He mimed picking up a big book off the table and blew the dust off of the imaginary object, then sat it back down on and opened it. He did it with so much precision that Noel, for a brief moment thought that the invisible book was real.

The Recruiter opened the book and thumbed thru a couple of pages before saying "Ah-ha!" to himself.

"Noel Brenza, age 26, height 5'10, but you always, tell everyone that your 6'0. Weight 178, you graduated with normal grades, nothing extraordinary there. Your father left you and your mother at the early age of 9yrs old. You mother worked in insurance and hated everything on this planet. You were a shy and quiet boy, afraid of inclement weather, especially being raised in tornado alley, but you showed great aptitude and prowess on a dirt bike. Your mother's brother Barry saw you on a cousin's bike and helped you into it. He believed in you. Pushed you to your breaking point. Made you practice till you cried. And when he knew you were ready, he unleashed on the track and you had the fastest time in your region.

Barry instilled, or rather saw a drive-in you and watered it so it would grow into a full-blown obsession. You were the best out there. Light years ahead of the other kids, and raw talent and drive changed you. Made you petty. Still, …you were the best out there, but you were more interested in playing with your rivals, toying with them. Making them think they would beat you, then you'd slip past them and take first place away from them at the last second.

You became reckless, after toying with them gave you no more enjoyment. You'd deliberately cause accidents just to make you feel something out there. But one day, you went too far and caused a rider to crash and he was airlifted away to a hospital. He never walked again because of you. And for that, you were banned from the sport forever." The Recruiter licked the tip of his index finger and pretended to turn a page from the book.

"It's tough being that good right?" He said, looking up at Noel. "There's not a lot out there to challenge you. Nothing out there to make you do your best, to try your hardest, but money, you found out, makes an excellent motivator. You started street racing anything with wheels but stopped abruptly after seeing a friend die in a fiery crash. Some of your other fellow racer friends were caught by the police and you were wise to stop at that point, weren't you? Still, though, you needed that thrill. You worked the demolition derby for two years, laying low and earning some good money, 30,000 grand per event.

You did that until that old boredom reared its ugly head.

A couple of lean months go by and an old racer friend asks you to be wheelman for his crew and you jump at the chance. Didn't really care about your cut in the whole deal, just as long as there was danger involved. You did three perfect scores with them. But the fourth one….eh, not so much. One of the crew got careless and started spending his share. The spending spree got him up on the radar and he was eventually caught. He rolled over on you and the others for a reduced sentence." The Recruiter scoffed while turning another imaginary page.

"No honor among thieves, or friends either. You were picked up rather quickly; the other one was shot by police. So here we are." He said, shutting the book and leaning back in his chair.

"And now, we've come to the part of the story where I tell you about the organization that I work for and I am sure there's no need for explanation about them. I would say though, that we aren't that ruthless. Terrorists? well, Beethoven had his critics. Can you name any of them? "

Noel said nothing back; he just kept staring at The Recruiter.

"You'd be using your skills for amounts of money you've never imagined and danger that would halt a thrill seeker in his tracks! We'd grind you down to a razor's edge. No one would be able to touch you. Money, fame, doing what you are put on this Earth to do. And you'd be doing it under Cobra. Would that suit you?" The Recruiter stood up and walked over to where Noel was sitting. He looked down and put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's this or 25 plus doing hard labor."

Noel thought about it, but there really wasn't much else to think about. He had no leverage to play here. No winning hand to show. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright," Noel said.

The Recruiter smiled a smile that could kill a medium-sized dog and offered his hand out to seal the deal. Noel took it, and then The Recruiter's eyes went flat.

"Hail Cobra." He said plainly, and as quick as a magic trick, he produced a gun seemingly out of thin air and shot twice behind Noel. He turned just in time to see both cops fall to the floor, causing a small cloud of dust to kick up around them.

Noel jumped up from his chair in shock. He didn't expect that at all.

The Recruiter dashed over and checked the fallen officer's vitals, then grabbed one of their radios.

"Officers down!" He screamed into the microphone. "I repeat, officers down! Two officers shot down at the old packaging shop in the gasworks district. 1708 Cassady Ave. In Port Richmond. Send back up immediately!"

The Recruiter looked up at Noel, winked and threw a set of car keys at Noel.

"Looks like you're driving us." The Recruiter said. "And if we're caught…I was your hostage. So that's armed robbery, first-degree murder of two officers of the law and lots of other things that they will add on to it since they really dislike cop killers. So, what's it going to be?"

But Noel was already sprinting to the door of the warehouse. He ran past the cruiser he arrived in and stopped.

"To the left!" The Recruiter shouted, already running in that direction. Noel rounded the corner of the warehouse to find a car that he'd never seen before. It seemed to be made from several different cars, frankenstiened together, but sleeker, somehow all the parts together made sense. It was a dull gray and didn't seem to stick out at all. Your attention seemed to somehow drift away from it every time you tried to get a good look at it.

"She won't win Miss America." The Recruiter said, getting in the passenger side. "But she'll win Miss Broca Beach ever year!"

Noel got behind the wheel, buckled his safety harness and turned the ignition. The car was so quiet that he thought it stalled, but he could feel it vibrating through the gas pedal.

He checked and adjusted the side, rearview mirrors, and moved his seat forward.

"Hey, relax and get comfy, it's a moral imperative really." The Recruiter said, his words, dripping with sarcasm.

He placed his left foot on the brake pedal, and his right on the gas then took a deep breath.

He threw the car in reverse and did a J turn then knocked it into drive, he could've sworn the car dropped 5 inches closer to the ground when he did that. He slammed on the accelerator, causing the tires to squall loudly in obeisance. The vehicle got up to 85 through the warehouse parking lot.

"We need to get to South New Jersey, the quickest possible way and not try to attract any attention." The Recruiter said, crossing his arms. "Make it happen."

Noel ran through the best routes in his head. He'd memorized the streets of North Philly years ago. It was closing in on rush hour and the gas district was currently abandoned but getting across to the expressway would be something the cops would be looking for. He'd have to use back roads and stay well away from traffic cameras and heavily populated areas that would cause gridlock. He's was going to have to get across the Betsy Ross bridge to get over to New Jersey, but traffic would be at a standstill.

The Recruiter pressed a button on the dash and a touch screen opened. He clicked on an app with a cobra symbol wearing headphones, and static came on over the car's speakers and then voices could be heard.

"Be advised, be advised, all units in the area of 1708 Cassady. We are looking for a gray sedan, last seen leaving the packing district after a code 10-00 was called in. The suspect's name is Noel Brenza, 6'0 175 lbs, brown hair, green eyes, wearing a blue t-shirt, with black pants. The suspect is wanted for connection to an armed robbery and is considered armed and dangerous."

"Well, that escalated rather quickly." The Recruiter said. "Now, how do you evade police and look inconspicuous all the while driving beyond the speed limit? And you're not ditching the car." He said while patting the dash. "I love this car."

Noel was panicking. He wanted to drive as fast as possible to the nearest on-ramp and drive with the odometer pegged. He wanted to drive the car in the Hudson and just swim until he got to the New Jersey state line. He didn't care what The Recruiter would do if that happened.

Noel took a deep breath and held it in for as long as he could hold it and pulled his foot off the gas pedal and let the car slowly decelerate.

"What do you think you are doing?" The Recruiter asked. "You need to get us out of here as fast as possible. "

He already broke the first rule. Never let your emotions drive. He must have caught someone's attention with this loud egress from the warehouse parking lot. Cops will be looking for an erratic gray car driving impossibly fast. They'll be looking for anything suspicious.

Noel rolled his shoulders and let out his breath. He placed his left hand on the top of the steering wheel and put his right arm on the armrest. He was fighting against every emotion that he had. He was fighting hot flashes of panic. He wanted to hyperventilate and scream till he passed out. After his speed dropped down to 45mph, he started feeling somewhat better, then there was a static sound over the speakers and then a man's voice was heard.

"Dispatch this is car 598, responding to the 10-00. We are down here at The Regional Port Authority and are in-route to the area."

Noel tensed back up immediately, he was on E. Allegheny and was going to turn left onto North Delaware but most likely he would be taking that road and Noel would practically give himself to the cop, if he kept on this route. He took in slow sucks of air through his nose and let it hiss through his clenched teeth.

He was almost to the junction of North Delaware and decided to turn off on a worn-down road, where a couple of semis were parked. He could buy some time by hiding behind the four large refinery tanks and wait for the cop to drive by then get back on North Delaware.

From that area, Cassady was 4 blocks away. He would keep listening to the scanner for the police to tell him their next move.

He turned right down the old road and punched it, causing the car to jump up to 70 in seconds. He drove till he believed that he was a safe distance from a curious squad car and then slowed down and slowly turned around and parked behind one of the Semis. He could still see Allegheny ave from where he was, so now all he could do was wait.

"Hey, don't look over here." The Recruiter said, "I'm the hostage remember?" He handed Noel his sidearm. "Here, I am not firing at officers. Let's see you use that while going over 120 mph."

Noel did a brass check on the pistol and saw that it was loaded, he made sure the safety was on and slid it under his right thigh. He put the car in neutral and let off the brakes, the car didn't roll forward or backward, but he kept his hand on the gear shift just in case.

He could feel his pulse in his neck striking against the collar of his shirt. He could feel his nose and lips going numb from hyperventilation, still he didn't react or move from that spot. He just sat there in silence, trying to slow his breathing and pulse.

Four minutes pass and he caught a flash of lights and heard a Dopplered howl of a siren as the squad car sped by.

"Alright," The Recruiter said, "Let's get out of here."

Noel figured that he wouldn't run into any more cops on North Delaware, but any other units nearby would be coming in from closer to the expressway.

Noel didn't move. He wanted to let the unit get as close as possible to crime scene and then get back out on the road.

He could tell from the way The Recruiter was fidgeting, that he was getting nervous, but you wouldn't be able to tell by his face. It seemed to project a calm confidence. Noel turned his wheels and put the car into drive and slowly let the car idle its way back onto the road. Inching past the parked semi, Noel waited to hear from dispatch about more units on their way but still haven't heard anything yet. This started to make him nervous again. He needed them to give away their position and a good head start. He could feel The Recruiter staring at him but chose to ignore it and just decided to go his planned route.

He turned right, back on Allegheny and drove the speed limit. He got up to North Delaware and turned right and kept an eye on his periphery, checking on any white flash of a vehicle. So far, he saw nothing yet.

His arms were starting to feel a little shaky and weak around the forearm area. And his head felt like he'd been out drinking the night before. He knew that he was probably in stages of pre-dehydration. And the weakness in his arms was from exhaustion. He'd been up for 48 hours with no food, drink or sleep. This was spelling bad news for him. A driver is only as good as his endurance. Once that goes, especially in a race, you could end up hurting yourself or the other drivers.

He shook his arms one at a time decided to rest his left arm back on the armrest for now, try to conserve energy and keep the lactic build-up at a minimum. Was this the right way to go? He's going to be next to the Port Authority building soon, and the chances of there being more units to run into were multiplying. Noel shook his head a little bit to stay focused and to shoo away all the second-guessing that would be coming.

He looked around to make sure he wasn't going to run into yet another police car, over to his right were rows and rows of giant natural gas depots. Almost too many to count. It looked like a weird megalopolis of tall, round but very wide structures. He'd seen videos of these things catching fire, exploding and taking out half an entire city.

That would be a distraction, he thought to himself, an overkill kind of distraction. He had to stay focused. He knew that all this could change in a moment's notice and he had to be prepared to act. He glanced over to The Recruiter; he was just looking out the passenger window. He couldn't really tell what was going on with him now. Noel sped up a little faster and braced himself for what any intersecting road could show him.

He turned into the outside lane and slowed down a bit. He was passing the terminals of Kinder Morgan, where the supply trucks come out onto the road. He slowed down more to match the speed of a gas tanker. At least he could use the semi to block him from being seen by other traffic. He felt better about his decision and could be more at ease now.

As he approached the Port Authority building on his left, he felt his foot come off the accelerator a little. He was doing wide sweeps with his eyes, trying to protect his blind spots and using the semi's gap between the trailer and the sleeper to peek across the road to catch anything threatening. Then he caught a glimpse of something that made his stomach drop.

A squad car was crossing E. Tioga on Rudat ave. He was sure of it. He couldn't be sure that it was the same one that he saw earlier…probably not though. That unit is probably waiting for an ambulance to arrive. He felt a cold stab in his spine that gave him shivers down his extremities. His joints felt stiff like he was frozen in one position.

"What's going on with you?" The Recruiter asked.

Noel said nothing. He couldn't, he felt paralyzed.

"You think you saw a cop, didn't you?" He said. "You've been awake and on red alert now for 40 plus hours. Your need a sherpa because your stress levels are so high."

Noel's jaw was clenched so tight, he was getting a headache.

"Sherpa? You know, Tenzing Norgay? Well, I thought it was witty." The Recruiter said.

Maybe Noel was seeing things. Maybe it was just a white sedan. Maybe he was right.

"You need to speed up and get us out of here." The Recruiter said sternly.

He turned his torso towards Noel and stared at him. "I think you are a washout. I think I made a mistake with you Brenza. You can't hack this. And no one is even firing at you and you act like this? You might as well give up and turn yourself in."

Noel whipped his head around to meet his gaze. His hand grabbed the handle of the pistol. He pulled it up and pointed it toward the floorboard with his finger on the trigger.

"No." was all he said to The Recruiter. He clicked the safety off the weapon and put back under his thigh. Noel turned his head back to the road. He wasn't going to second guess himself. He knew what he saw and that was that.

He still hadn't heard any other chatter from the scanner and that left him in a limbo kind of state. It was good but also bad too.

Venango street was coming up and Noel positioned himself between the trailer and cab to see if he could see the squad car again. And there he was, the same squad car, still going north. He felt more secure beside the truck and tried to get a better view of the car.

It was going roughly the same speed as him and the semi. Then the semi started slowing down and this made him uneasy. It meant he was going to lose his cover.

All his instincts told him to gun it, and drive as fast as possible to Lewis street, but he knew that it would most certainly attract the cop's attention. He took a deep breath and turned on the cruise control to not feel tempted to speed off. As the semi turned left onto Venango, Noel saw the cop clear as day and he knew that cop saw him. He waited to hear something over the scanner but after passing the street, he saw from the rearview that the cop wasn't turning or anything. He stayed straight on Rudat. Noel let out his breath and turned off the cruise control. His view of the cop became obscured by dilapidated fuel depots, industrial buildings and lots of overgrowth. He hadn't heard the scanner go off yet. Maybe he was in the clear.

"Well how about that. You weren't hallucinating." The Recruiter said while looking behind him in the back glass. Noel didn't have any proof yet that the cop was even going to stay on the same route. He could have pulled someone over or pulled into one of the many buildings struggling to keep customers happy. Noel turned started going faster the allotted speed limit said. His eyelids felt heavier than ever and not being held in fear's grasp right now was making him feel tired again. With every adrenalin spike, he felt he was losing more and more of his wits. A true test of if he was in the clear would be up ahead before could get to Lewis street. He had one more intersecting road on Delaware and that was Castor street. If he could get past it without seeing the cop car, then he felt that he would be in good shape.

"This is nothing like what I thought it would be." The Recruiter said, popping his knuckles. "I thought there'd be helicopters and at least an eight-car pursuit team on you by now. So far, we've only seen two squad cars. Now, why do you think that is? "

Noel knew why. Because the best routes to the scene of the crime is the Delaware Expressway. That's why they haven't seen that many cops. The closets Precinct is the 26th in Kensington. That's where he was held. He knew that majority of cops would be coming from there. Port Richmond was in the Badlands and most cops don't come around it. You can even tell from a map. Just look at the precincts and where they are all laid out. They all go around Port Richmond. They just want the Irish and Polish that live there to kill themselves off.

The street sign that said Castor Street was now in view and Noel felt it in the pit of his gut. He couldn't stand this anymore. As he past Castor, he made himself not look just to try not to do something stupid like floor it to Lewis. Then he heard the squelch of the scanner again.

"Dispatch, this is car 605 heading north on Rudat, I just crossed Castor and saw what matches the description of the gray sedan that was seen leaving the scene of the 10-00. I can't be sure if it is or not, so I'm going to pull it over the junction of Lewis and Rudat.

It was 2000 ft from Castor to Lewis. The cop was a little behind him on Rudat and Noel felt like panicking. His headache that he was ignoring was pounding harder now. His core shook with fear. He didn't know if he could handle this anymore. He readjusted the pistol under his thigh and then did something that he was not supposed to do. He accelerated. He knew he was caught so what else is there to do but to drive as fast as humanly possible.

Noel brought the car up to 90 crisscrossing through the semis, going into the ongoing lane and then back over to the shoulder of the road, just anything to get ahead of the office that he would soon have an altercation with. He could think of nothing more than the freedom that the Betsy Ross Bridge represented. He felt that he would feel a tremendous weight lift from his soul once he was on that bridge. Although his head pounded harder now, he felt a little more positive about escaping. He could almost make out the sign for Lewis Street and that helped him push through the fatigue and pain.

He pumped his brakes a little to decelerate and took the shoulder again to pass a utility truck. He was going to hit the turn going at least 70 and felt ready for what might occur. Noel slammed on the brakes, yanked the emergency brake and then turned sharply onto Lewis; the rear of the car slid to the right which he adjusted the steering wheel to compensate. As soon as he back in control, he stepped on the gas pedal getting back up to eighty miles per hour and climbing. The traffic on Lewis street was choked down to two lanes, and it full of semis driving down to get to the Betsy Ross Bridge. Noel hoped in the confusion that he'd be able to hide beside one while driving on the shoulder.

Up ahead was a railroad crossing and then a block after that, Rudat. He had no time to lose. He whipped around another semi and got back on the road. Noel didn't slow down for the railroad crossing bump and caught air while going over it. He was coming up to a large enclosed place on the left. Chain link and razor wire with lots of vehicles parked inside. He saw a sign that said, City of Philadelphia Automotive Auction. He glanced

over and saw rows upon rows old police cars that have had their decals removed, leaving an afterimage of brand new paint under it. He thought about how when he was in the demolition derby circuit, the racers would buy the old cop cars for cheap and use them for the derby. They were perfect disposable cars. Their engines were great because of the upkeep and regular inspection by a mechanic. All you had to do was remove most of the wiring, remove all the glass, weld the trunk and doors shut, take out the radiator, add a roll cage and you were ready to go. You didn't need the assistance of a nosy backer, but you would need to use a couple of mechanically knowledgeable friends in the pit area.

As soon as you were done with it after the derby was over, you'd haul it off to the nearest dump or salvage yard the next day. It was easy money for Noel, money that he could put somewhere and not touch for the most part. Now, all that money, months and months of winnings were tainted. He'd have to start over now if he could not get caught. At least he wasn't leaving behind a house full of belongings and an anxious pet.

Noel shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus. It seemed to be getting harder and harder to do that. As he went on without sleep, he was finding it very difficult to push the random thoughts and memories away and keep his attention on Lewis Street and the traffic that was clogging it up. He couldn't think about repercussions now, his only course of action was escaping. As he passed a utility truck and narrowly avoided getting hit, Noel saw him come up to the stop sign of Rudat. The cop car was right there and the moment he noticed Noel, he turned on his roof lights and siren and sprayed gravel from under his tires.

The traffic seemed to bend and move with the cop's will. As if the cars and trucks were the water of the red sea. Noel was still trying to put as much distance between him and the police car as possible but fighting the traffic was making it hard.

"Dispatch this is car 605 I am going west on Lewis and I'm in pursuit of the gray sedan, I think he's trying to make it to the Ross. I'm going to have to do something now or I'll risk endangering the drivers on that bridge. I'm gonna try and pit him."

Noel thanked God for whoever invented the scanner. He slowed down a bit but continued to pass the other cars on the road. The cop was gaining on him fast. He knew the cruisers had a max speed of 155 and he knew that he can't outrun the radio, so he slowed down even more. He had a plan…sort of.

"What are you doing?" The Recruiter asked. His eyebrows arched high up on his forehead. "We need to get to the bridge and you're slowing down to what? Play games with the guy?" His voice was beginning to grate on what was left of Noel's nerves. For a split second, he thought of just putting a bullet in his head but he knew how stupid of an idea that truly was. He ignored the glare that The Recruiter was giving him and kept his focus on the road and the cop coming closer and closer to him.

The cop moved into position and waited for traffic to clear up a little. Noel knew full well what was going to happen next. The cop got his front bumper next to the back bumper of the gray sedan. Time seemed to slow down now as the cop turned his wheels sharply to nudge Noel off the road, but he was ready for that. He slammed on the brakes watched as the cop car passed him, then accelerated back up to rear of the officer's car and then pitted him.

The cop car was already trying to correct himself and wasn't ready for what Noel was doing. He nudged hard at the cops rear bumper, which helped with the momentum of the police car and caused it to spin out, and slide off the road on to the right hand shoulder, hit a culvert and flip on to its side, hauling chunks of sod up into the air where it landed.

Noel didn't slow down. He kept driving. He got one concern out of the way and out of his head. "But you can't outrun the radio." He said to himself. He knew that the cop would be radioing in about what just happened. He thought about turning around and using the gun on him but pushed it out of his mind. He caught a break with traffic flow and made it down the stop sign of Lewis and Richmond and turned left, trying to fade into the ebb of rush hour. Even though the speed limit was 25mph, he desperately wanted to go faster than that. But he kept his foot from mashing on the accelerator.

The scanner crackled again with labored breathing and sharp clacking sounds. Then a voice was heard.

"Dispatch, this is car 605."

"Go ahead 605. What's your status on your pursuit of the gray sedan?" A calm female voice said.

"Dispatch, I tried to pit the sedan, but he saw it coming and somehow, he reversed it on me. I ended getting pitted by him. I lost control of the cruiser and now I am on my side in a ditch. Will somebody get this guy off the road! Be warned though. He knows what he is doing behind the wheel. Just get him before he gets to the Ross!" The sharp clacking sound came back over the speakers and the officer's voice faded into white noise.

"You are making so many friends today!" The Recruiter said smiling, looking over at Noel. "We just need to work on your conversation skills."

But Noel wasn't listening anymore. He was just glad that Richmond was a two lane and that he could pass people without using the shoulder. He did notice that people weren't obeying the speed limit and just matched the faster people speeding through the lanes. He'd just look like he was late to get somewhere like everyone else on the road.

They passed a scrapyard/used car lot on the right. It was a small little area with a corrugated tin fastened onto chain link fence. He wanted more than anything, to ditch this vehicle and get one of the used cars. But he knew that he would have lots of unknown variables against him, so he shut down that idea.

Passing over Franklin creek, Noel could see the exit to the Betsy Ross Bridge. He sped up and turned off onto the entrance ramp. He felt a deep swell within him. A warm happy feeling of relief, he felt that this would be over soon and then he could truly relax. He sped up with anticipation. But upon getting up and over the incline to the bridge, he saw traffic. Lots and lots of traffic.

He saw it like a giant artery going in and out of the city or giant organism. He needed to find the rhythm of the bridge. He needed to find its pulse in order to get them out of here and into New Jersey.

"I need music," Noel said.

"Sure, but there are ground rules here. I don't have an aux cord. No new country, 90's country, recent hip hop past 93, hipster music. But everything else…I am okay with. Do you enjoy City Pop?"

Noel just needed to have a rhythm to follow. He scanned the radio for anything that he could tap into and came across the song El Rey Y Yo by Los Angeles Negros, and turned it up.

"You'd figure that you'd be a little pickier with the music that you want to hear while being chased across a bridge by the cops." The Recruiter said. "I mean, how about something from the Iron Eagle soundtrack? Anything is better than this!"

Noel unfocused his vision and looked around frantically for a split second, feeling out the traffic, and then he found it. The beat of the bridge, the tempo of that the drivers were unconsciously following and hit the gas.

He zipped between cars left and right, moving in and out with minimal effort. He glanced over at the recruiter who was holding the door handle and looking peaked. This made Noel smile for the first time in 40 plus hours.

Not many things in this world gave The Recruiter a fright, but this, being in the middle of rush hour traffic on Philadelphia's busiest bridge, driving at 85 mph, scared him to the point of hyperventilation. He desperately wanted to comment on Noel's speed but decided not to after looking over at him. Noel's body was there in the driver's seat but that was all. His eyes were wide open in concentration, not ever blinking. His face was unflinching while his arms were a blur on the steering wheel. His left foot worked the brake pedal with precision and his right was on gas, both alternating in perfect sync with the traffic.

He pondered just closing his eyes and hoping for the best, but a creeping anxious need for control made him scratch that idea. He looked down at the dashboard and realized that both hands were firmly pressed against it. His heart was racing, and his chest felt tight. He was terrified. He tried to focus on what was going on behind and trust in Noel's expertise behind the wheel.

In the distance of the rearview, Noel saw blue lights flashing over the tops of the cars.

He knew he had to get as much distance between the cops and him as posiible. The flashing tail lights of a car in front of him caused him to whip the car to the right and drive half on and half off the medium. He increased speed to 90mph, the car jostled hard with every bump, but he kept going.

"Any units in the vicinity of the Ross bridge. This is car 103 and we are in pursuit. Anyone on the other side, be advised. Suspect is in a grey sedan and will be coming up on the toll area anytime soon."

The toll area.

Noel was so focused, he forgot about that. They'll be cameras and witnesses, not to mention a unit positioned there for those that try to drive-thru without paying.

You can't outrun the radio, he thought.

He saw a diagonal shaped gap in the traffic on the bridge and popped his brakes and swerved back on to the actual highway, and quickly cut across to his right. Noel could feel the fatigue crawl back into his brain. He knew he couldn't keep ignoring it. He would have to deal with it soon or he would make a mistake and that might cost him his life.

He knew from racing that the moment your focus goes off the other drivers and the track is when you could cause a wreck. If he were racing now, he would've let off the accelerator and drifted back to the back of the pack and accepted defeat. Stamina is something a driver needs a lot of, and if you don't have enough of it or enough sheer will, you'd never make it in that world.

He could feel micro tremors in his shoulders, running down his triceps and down into his forearms, his eyes had that solid feeling, near the retinas… that pressure to just close your eyelids and rest for a moment. He felt dizzy from no food and he had a slight cold shivery feeling in his core. Noel felt desperate for relief. He thought about asking the recruiter to slap him or punch him, anything to get the adrenalin going again just a little more clarity.

Noel rolled down his window, and let the air in. He reached under his thigh, pulled out the gun and held it up outside the car and shot several times into the sky. The vehicle next to him stomped on its brakes and jerked away from him and into another vehicle. A chain reaction started behind him, cars were veering away from him and slowing down. Noel thought about trying to shoot out a tire or two but decided against it.

At least now there was a wall of scared motorist between him and the cop behind him somewhere in the traffic. He grazed the passenger side of a taxi while passing it, the taxi stopped hard and the driver mashed on the horn in protest. Noel corrected himself and sucked air through his teeth. He couldn't let that happen again.

You wreck the getaway vehicle and you don't get away.

The row of twelve Toll Booths was in sight now and that gave Noel a strong sense of relief. The Recruiter squinted into the distance, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed a button and started talking.

"It's me. We are about to be in New Jersey, do you have our coordinates? Good. How close by are you now? That's even better. Are you at the rendezvous point then? Fine. Then we'll meet you there." The recruiter ended his call and put the cell phone back in his pocket. He reached over to the touch screen on the dash and typed in an address. He looked over and smiled at Noel. It made him feel that cold feeling in his stomach again. It was like he was trying to do an impression of a smile after reading about it in a book.

"How do you feel about a little bit of rally car action, eh?" The Recruiter asked, still smiling. He raised his right hand and pointed out toward the southeast, Noel could see a tree line, hiding a couple of houses.

Noel said nothing; he just kept looking ahead and tried to maneuver over to the far-right lane. The lane with no toll booth, but there was a New Jersey state trooper parked in the parking lot near the lane he was going to. The car's wheels hit the last connecting piece of the Betsy Ross Bridge he was going down the incline now and finally in the right lane. There were so many cars already lined up at the toll booths, and Noel knew that he would have to do something drastic.

The lights on the State trooper's car came on. The rear tires smoked and squealed as he did a j-turn with his rear bumper coming close to the last booth, he was trying to block Noel's path. He thought that Noel was trying for the freeway.

"Good," Noel said out loud. And turned sharply to his right aiming for the parking lot, but the trooper had predicted this move and took off across the lot after Noel.

The Recruiter looked ahead in the parking lot; there wasn't an access road into the nearby neighborhood, just a grassy slope of earth, a chain-link fence and a guardrail over to the right.

"Good?" The Recruiter asked.

Noel pressed the gas all the way to the floor and aimed the vehicle for the slope.

The state trooper was right behind Noel. His lights flashing, and siren wailing, he seemed very dogged in the pursuit. It didn't matter. Noel was spent. This was his last-ditch effort to get some distance between the squad car and him. Noel got up to 75 just as he hit the slope. The car went airborne and tore through the chain-link fence. The state trooper wasn't so lucky.

He overcorrected on the slope and ended up getting the car sideways in the air and hitting the guardrail on the driver's side. The recruiter's vehicle landed hard, bouncing once and tore the muffler loose, then ricocheted off a parked car in a cul de sac on Boulevard ave. Noel lost control of the car, it was sliding at a high rate of speed, he tried to correct it but then began to fishtail, sending the rear of the car around making them now directed back at the cul de sac. The scanner crackled and they heard the state trooper speak.

"This is car 56 I was in pursuit of the suspect in the gray sedan but lost control of my cruiser. I can't get it to turn over and my front tire is out. Suspect is still moving and is now on Boulevard Ave."

Noel cursed under his breath and slammed the car into reverse and into a driveway, then threw it into drive and tore out and back on the road. All he could think about were how many people heard the commotion and were looking outside their windows and calling the police. These were bush league mistakes he was making, and he couldn't stop it from happening, he was exhausted from this excursion.

The Recruiter didn't let up though. He ignored the whole thing and kept talking.

"Make the next left, and don't slow down."

Noel could only hope that his mistakes were behind him now. He slapped himself in the face to clear the cobwebs and accelerated to Velde Ave. He started turning a little before the actual street, hit the brake slightly at the apex of the turn and then was back on the gas.

"Now, the next right." The Recruiter commanded.

Noel didn't see any cars coming down the road so when he skidded onto Remington Ave, he let the rear of the car slide out a little farther than he liked. He really didn't care about how he was graded now. He felt a little bit of tension lift with that thought. The car shook and jostled to the left, throwing The Recruiter around under his seat belt. He didn't look over to see if he was giving him a sour look. He didn't care that he was breaking all his own rules. He was driving like an idiot kid on a joy ride with a stolen car. He just kept driving and awaited more instructions.

Noel whizzed past several two-story houses, nearly identical in structure but colored differently. The evening light of what little sun was left made everything seem exaggerated, the shadows, the parked cars, the lights in the houses, it all seemed like looking at a funhouse mirror. Or maybe it's the sleep deprivation messing with his mind. The street lights were beginning to flicker on and that gave Noel a bit a smile. He always loved dusk. Something about it always made him feel excited. His heart would always race when he saw them shimmer. Maybe it was because his favorite TV shows would be coming on soon and he would start running back home when he heard his mother's voice calling him back in for dinner.

"I said, Derousse Ave! Turn right!"

Noel almost missed his next turn. He tapped the brakes and skidded on to Derousse, narrowly missing a pickup truck.

"What's the matter with you?!" The Recruiter shouted.

Seeing his face contort into a grimace made Noel feel like giggling, but he kept it all from showing on his face. He briefly took his hands from the wheel and shook them and then was back at it, driving as fast as he could.

He passed cars on the shoulder of the road, and into ongoing traffic as well. Part of him wanted to see just how close he could get his door to other cars without touching. He briefly thought about rolling down the window and trying to touch them as he passed by.

He could feel The Recruiter, willing Noel to look at him but ignored it. Instead of yelling again at Noel, The Recruiter simply said,

"Left on Boulevard."

Noel tore left, causing a car to hit it brakes and shout threats via the car horn.

He saw a dimly lit, dirt parking lot to his left and a Semi loading terminal on his right. There were a lot of trailers parked but not many rigs. It was a surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire. There was a guy in dirty gray coveralls standing next to the gate.

"Slow down and roll down your window." The Recruiter said.

Noel followed orders and rolled the window down and stopped at the gate.

The man in coveralls walked over to Noel's window and leaned in to look him. He had a streak of grease across his large forehead, and dirt smeared on his cheeks. Noel thought it looked a bit slapdash, like someone trying to look like a dirty, grimy mechanic.

The man looked over at The Recruiter and placed his clean hands on the car door.

"Hail Cobra." The Recruiter said flatly.

"Hail Cobra." The man in the coveralls said with a smile.

The Recruiter nodded at Noel and he stepped away from the car and motioned them in.

Noel looked around at the trailers, most of them had various unknown companies on their sides but there was one in the around the back that was dirty blue and red on with the words, "Extensive Enterprises" on the side. It was connected to an idling semi. The Recruiter pointed at it.

"That's our ticket to Broca Beach." He said to Noel.

"Go around to the rear of the trailer."

Noel drove around to the rear of the loading building and saw that the Trailer The Recruiter was referring to, had its doors open and a ramp leading up into it.

"No need for an invitation when the doors are open. That's what I always say."

Noel nodded and drove up the ramp and into the trailer. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Before he could take the keys out, The Recruiter was already getting out and walking forward into the trailer. Two figures that Noel didn't pay attention to, shut the back doors and locked them.

Noel pulled himself from his seat and slowly got out of the vehicle. He felt a wave of relief strike his chest and roll down to his feet as he stepped onto the floor of the tractor-trailer. His knees tried to buckle but he caught himself before it happened. He just wanted to sleep for 18 hours. He felt punch drunk and exhausted. He rolled his aching shoulders and neck. He looked around at his surroundings. The inside of the trailer was flat black with a single line of fluorescent bulbs running down to the doors. He figured once those went out, it would be difficult to see in here, with the lights off, even with the doors open. At the front of the trailer was a flat black door that the recruiter went into.

Noel walked around the vehicle and toward the door. He heard the hiss of air brakes then trailer jostled hard, sending back a step bumping into the fender of the car. He got his footing and started again toward the door where The Recruiter went in.

He opened the door to be flooded with sound and bright lights. He squinted, looking around at everything, taking it all in. Noel saw three people standing next to The Recruiter, two women, one blonde one redhead and one African American male. All three were wearing lab coats. In front of them next to a wall was a desk with three laptops on in it and against the adjacent wall, an odd object that Noel had no knowledge of.

At first glance, it looked like a chrome jungle gym, only with no swings hanging from the top. It had chrome pipes that jutted out toward the center from its corners near the top and a pipe-shaped triangle in the center. Almost every corner of the apparatus had disc-shaped buttons on it, Noel counted 12 in all.

"Please." The Recruiter said with a cold smile. "We have one more test for you to do and then we will know if you have been welcomed into the ranks of COBRA."

He waved his hand across the machine, "This is a BATAK accumulator. It measures your reaction time and spatial awareness. You can't turn your head to see what buttons you are hitting; you must only use your peripheral vision and you'll have only 60 seconds to see how many correct hits you will get."

"I can't even…" Noel tried to say but was interrupted by The Recruiter.

"You must though. Think of it as a matter of life or death." He very quickly produced the handgun again, which mesmerized Noel, because he thought he left it on the driver's seat in the vehicle. The Recruiter motioned with the pistol at Noel.

He walked over to the contraption, and upon walking on to a black pad on the floor, the machine beeped to life and lit up.

"Get ready!" The computer said in a high energetic female voice.

"Go!"

Noel looked straight ahead and saw the first disc light up to his top left. He hit it and tried to keep up with its pace. The way all the discs were situated; he had to bend his knees in order to move faster between the blinking buttons. He could already tell this wasn't going to end well. The swaying left and right keeping his core taught, made him feel very dizzy.

He could feel his vision tunneling, but he kept up as best as he could with the machine.

His breath became labored and frantic and he was gasping and wheezing for air.

His left leg buckled briefly under his weight, but he managed to catch himself before he fell. Noel knew though that he couldn't last much longer. His ankles shook and then both knees above the joint, spasmed deep in the muscle tissue.

The room was spinning uncontrollably, and Noel could not keep his balance any longer, his vision went first, then he dropped backward and was unconscious before his head hit the ground.

When Noel opened his eyes again, he shook in confusion. He was lying in a bed with the red-headed lab tech standing next to him. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back down. She pulled a walkie talkie from her coat and spoke into it.

"He's awake." was all she said.

Noel looked around. He was in a giant white room like a trauma wing of a hospital, but it didn't smell like one. There were no windows and looking to his right there were single beds for quite a ways with no one in them. He looked up at her, but she was looking away to a pair of double doors that were opening.

It was The Recruiter. He seemed troubled. Noel couldn't place the look on his face.

"Did I…"

"No." The Recruiter said, fixing the cuffs of his shirt. "You didn't make it."

"Oh," Noel said.

"Technically." The Recruiter said, pursing his lips.

"You only made it for 30 seconds before you passed out. So, you lost. But, in those 30 seconds, you made a 150. And our before you ask if that's good or not. Just know that our top non-enhanced Strato-Viper made a 170 in 60 seconds. So, if we double your time. You'd break the COBRA record at 300 in 60 seconds.

He stretched out his hand to shake Noels, "And just so you'll know, your first three paychecks are going to fixing up my car. I told you…I love that car."

Shouting brought him out of his recollection. Dented helmet and the gesturer were pointing and yelling at the convoy coming into view.

"Oh look, they have air support." The gesturer said nonchalantly.

"This is stupid!" Dented helmet screamed. We…I'm soup if I get hit by a frag! The shrapnel will just bounce around inside this pod and I'll be soup!"

The gesturer was flailing. "Unlock these pods! Get us into position or we're doomed like he said."

"I didn't say doomed, stupid! I said, soup! There's a big difference!" Dented helmet shouted.

"There they are lads!" Bludd said over the com. "Time to earn your keep, right?!"

"Cobra!"

The Motor Viper counted: Two semis, six stingers, and of course, air support. Two helicopters, one Retaliator and one Dragonfly, undoubtedly piloted by the rube known as "Wild Bill" The motor viper knew this because Wild Bill had the annoying proclivity for playing country music through his loudspeaker, and sometimes pepper in some witty red neck retorts during battles.

Wild Bill taunts the Cobra troops, easily picking off the ground forces and the Motor Viper is aggravated. The Hiss tanks just can't hit him. He must change things up, make Bill work for his paycheck.

Wild Bill and Updraft disable the hiss tanks with heat seekers and bombs. The motor viper can see his mustachioed grin as he flies by.

With seething anger, the motor viper's focus becomes like a laser. Nothing else exists but that Dragonfly and his Stun. He starts up the vehicle and eased it into gear, causing to slightly lurch forward.

"Whoa whoa whoa! What do you think you are doing? We can't outrun the vamps! They top out at 140mph! We're a mobile battle platform that can do 70 at best!" Dented helmet says.

"Hey, is that Dragonfly playing Friends in low places over his loudspeaker?" The gesturer says.

"Bludd has us on a suicide mission!" Baby fang screams.

Looking down at the road, the Stingers lay down cover fire, launching rockets into the edge of both sides of the mesa. And the Semi-trucks are gaining speed.

The Motor viper could no longer feel his armor plating suffocating him. His gloves felt fine and his jitters were gone. And, there was a smile on his face. His left foot eased up and took over break duties and his right was revving up the engine. The machine bounced up and down kicking up tails of dirt clouds behind it.

Dented helmet looked back at The Motor Viper and screamed. "No! What do you think you are doing?!"

"What's going on?" Baby fang screamed.

"I think he's going to send us over the edge of this mesa. Am I right?" He said looking still at Noel.

"Yes." was all he said. Letting off the break and sending the Stun off the side of the mesa.

"Oh, this is unfortunate." The gesturer said.

To be continued.


End file.
